


Reason Enough

by wildair7



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 02:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13848276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildair7/pseuds/wildair7
Summary: Spock makes his decision to leave Vulcan for the Starfleet Academy, despite his father's wishes.





	Reason Enough

**Reason Enough**

A Short Story

 

By

 

Janelle Holmes

 

    The elder Vulcan’s voice never raised a decibel but still the words were ones of anger, as he studied the document on the desk where he sat. “You are determined to dishonor this family?”

     “No, Father,” the younger man answered, “it is not my intent to dishonor our family, but if I remain on Vulcan, I cannot bring honor on it, either. Here, I shall continue to be regarded as less than a Vulcan, as I have my entire life.”

     “And you believe escape from your cultural roots will cause others to regard you as equal to them?” The older man resumed his study of the document before him. “I followed the wishes of my father, as did his, to enter the Vulcan Science Academy. Your duty is to follow that tradition.”

     “Father, I cannot,” the younger said, stepping nearer. “It is impossible. My future can only evolve where I am recognized for my own qualities first and as a Vulcan and member of this family second.”

     “You still refuse my wishes?” said Sarek, raising his eyes.

     “I must.”

     “Then you are no longer my son, and this is no longer your house. Tomorrow morning, I shall expect you to be gone, along with all your personal possessions.”

     “As you wish.” The dark, slender youth turned and stalked quickly through the double doors, down the dark corridor of the cool plaster and stucco house, and into the back courtyard.

     Anger built up inside him as he rounded the corner of the path which led to the more private, hidden part of the dormant garden, but he knew—even now—he must control his burgeoning emotion and deny his anger release by physical means the way a human might.

     He stared into the dense skeletal shrubs, wishing a way to convince his father of the urgency he felt in leaving the planet of his birth. If they were closer, he would have spoken of the true reason he must leave. But that was more illogical for a Vulcan than the other reason, and the other truer.

     Finding himself sitting on the dried grassy stubble of the lawn, he leaned against the rough trunk of a carcamoa, but its knobbed texture failed to distract him from his inner conflicts. The sound of crunching footsteps on the fallen red leaves of the path leading here drew his attention, until their bearer intruded on his sanctuary.

     “Spock,” inquired a small, childlike voice. “Cousin Spock, I saw you come to this place, and usually only one reason would bring you here. Is something amiss?” Fathomless golden eyes of innocence peered down at him, questionably.

     “Sit beside me, little one. I find your presence calmative.”

     The small girl-child sat, taking the hand of the young man fifteen years her senior. “What ails you, dearest cousin. No…I know, now. You have argued with Uncle Sarek. Am I correct?”

     “As always, little princess, you mind has not failed you. Yes, I have argued with him, using the same words as in previous times, but this time, I am disowned.”

     “He will retract his words,” she said nodding, wisely. “I am sure. I have sensed his troubled mind. This is a difficult time for him, as well.”

     Spock looked down at her. “You are much too concerned of others for one of your years. It is not right that you mind be burdened with such worries.”

     “I am Vulcan reared. You, Uncle Sarek and Aunt Amanda are my only family. I cannot but help being concerned for any of you.” The child’s eyes questioned Spock before she spoke again. “You are leaving this time.”

     “I must. I can delay my departure no longer, and barely enough time remains to arrive on Earth for taking the qualifying exams prior to the beginning of the next session.”

     “Then you will not be here for my sixth birthday?”

     “No, T’Pira, I shall not.”

     With a very non-Vulcan sniff of sadness, the child remarked, “And you shall spend your next birthday on a strange world.”

     Spock nodded.

     “Will you return to Vulcan before my next birthday?”

     He took the girl’s hands in his much larger ones. “It shall be many birthdays before my return, little one. When I come back, you will nearly be a woman, for I cannot return for seven standard years, once I have graduated from the Space Academy.”

     “Yes, I will be nearly a woman by then. I have often wondered about that time. It seems so odd the transformation can take place in such a brief time.”

     “But it does.”

     “Yes, I suppose it must.” She withdrew her hands from his. “Would it be proper for me to give you the present I have for your next birthday, now, before you leave?”

     Spock smiled. “You have it already?”

     “I finished it yesterday, upon sensing the urgency it must be completed much sooner than first planned.”

     “You made me something?”

     “Yes, a lytherette. I will bring it after the evening meal.”

 

     This particular evening meal became a slow torture. Sarek would not speak a single word to Spock, and Spock ignored his father. Tension high between the two, Amanda couldn’t comprehend the reason, for she was ignorant of the earlier discussion between her husband and son. Finally, after an indeterminably long hour, Spock left the table and retired to his room. When T’Pira excused herself soon after, Amanda looked at her husband and seeing his face more stern than usual, she dared not to question him as for the reason.

 

     Spock packed slowly, folding each article carefully and placing what he would be permitted to take to Earth into the small clothes bag sitting on his bed. His mind strayed from the task, his hands acted without thought, because his mind contemplated other matters, such as the coming years and what they would bring to Vulcan and their affect upon the child T’Pira, his foster sister, as well as cousin. While there existed little doubt as to the results of her testing at the age of seven, a test similar to that given young boys, hers would be more difficult, if possible, because of her heritage and what she represented. He remembered his own testing with vivid memories. His only consolation consisted of knowing no matter how strenuous, she would pass.

     The sound of a small hand knocking on the door awakened his mind to the present.

     “Enter.”

     T’Pira’s dark head peered around the side then she entered wholly, unsuccessfully hiding her present behind her back. She neared her cousin quietly, laying the lytherette on the bed beside the bad, when taking interest in his packing.

     “It seems impossible you are leaving us.”

     “What you see is reality, T’Pira. I leave late tonight.”

     “Can it not wait until morning?”

     “No.”

     “Spock,” the child said, leaning against his bed, “if… No, that is not correct. When you play the lytherette I have made for you, will you think of us here, thinking of you?”

     “I doubt you all shall think of me that often, little one.”

     The small girl’s eyes grew wide and slightly moist. “I shall.”

     When she spoke, Spock couldn’t help but look at her. If he had not been Vulcan, he would have put his arm about her and drawn her close to comfort her fears, answering her they would see each other again. But he was Vulcan and could not possibly do such a thing…no matter how he felt.

     So, he replied, instead, “Then I shall think of you, my princess, thinking of me.”

     The child smiled her faint, sweet smile, one Spock had been powerless to erase in her training, and one of the many concessions he granted during her tutorship. That smile, in itself, never failed to stir his Human half.

     “You will give my mother the reason I am leaving?” he asked.

     “The one you gave Sarek or the true one?”

     Spock turned from his packing and faced the very Human appearing child. “And what do you know of the true reason?”

     “I know you leave for Starfleet because of me. It has something to do with my becoming an adult, but I cannot understand what.”

     “T’Pira,” he answered sternly, “you must learn not to probe a person’s mind without invitation. You had no right to delve into my personal thoughts. I have forgiven you before, but this time, I shall not.”

      She lowered her eyes and replied contritely, “But the thoughts just come, and I did not understand yours. Nevertheless, I shall apologize…if you wish.”

     “Apology is unimportant, what is, is that you restrain such talents.”

     “I understand,” she murmured, swelling out her lower lip.

     “T’Pira, you are pouting again.”

     “I am not pouting.”

     “Then what is the name for your facial expression?”

     “Contemplation,” she answered without hesitation.

     “Come, little one. I do not wish to depart this place with anger between us.”

     “But, if you desert me, who shall teach me what I need to know?”

     “There are the academies and Sarek.”

     “He does not understand me as you do. He has no patience with small children, and there are things which neither he nor the academies can teach me, questions they cannot answer.”

      “And you think I can? Could not some of your questions be answered by my mother?”

     “Some, not all.” Even so, she cannot understand me fully. Only you can.”

     “Then you may tell me of your problems by our airway communication, and I shall answer. Will that suffice?”

     “I suppose,” she acknowledged with a sigh, still pouting.

     “Then that is the way it shall be.”

   

     The next morning, while T’Pira sat in the rear courtyard, studying her lessons while the temperatures remained cooler, Amanda came down the path, hands rubbing each other as she neared the child.

     “T’Pira,” she called to the young girl, “T’Pira, dear, do you know where Spock has gone this morning? He tells you everything, so I thought perhaps you’d know.”

     “Yes…he is gone,” she answered, not looking up.”

     “But where?” Amanda further probed. “He wasn’t at breakfast, and I haven’t seen him all day.” She took T’Pira’s fragile arm, and when the girl met her eyes, Amanda noticed hers were veined in red.

     “Child, you’ve been crying. What has happened?” Amanda straightened. “It’s Spock, isn’t it?”

     The girl nodded, sniffing.

    “You’d best tell me what’s wrong, dear.”

     “Spock left for Earth, late last night.”

     “For Earth? For Heaven’s sake, why?”

     “He plans to join Starfleet—against Uncle Sarek’s wishes.”

     “Which means they must have argued and why Sarek’s been so silent since yesterday afternoon.”

     “Spock left because he felt persecuted,” T’Pira explained further.

     “Yes,” Amanda mused aloud, “it’s been that way for years, ever since he was your age. I suppose he will be happier in Starfleet, though.”

     “I am certain he will.”

     “T’Pira, you’re a strange child with many talents, one being, even at your young age, you can see what the future holds. Will Sarek ever accept Spock’s decision?”      The girl stared off into space, her golden eyes blank, seeing nothing but the visions inside her head. Her lips opened, and her voice prophesized, “One day, many years from now, when life’s pressures threaten Uncle Sarek’s continuance, their blood will flow into a harmony of life. Even then, although he will accept, Uncle Sarek will not truly understand. Indeed, he will never know, not in his heart nor mind, why Spock chose Starfleet over his traditions.” A tear rolled down T’Pira’s pale cheek, her lips trembling with her final words, despite the fact she did not consciously know their meaning.

     Those last words were these, “But I will know his reason and understand.”

 

The End

   

    


End file.
